herd of people

I do this thing
I hate it, it makes me sad
it makes me cry
sometimes makes me wanna die
so many friends that I have, and the goodbyes are so easy
I pick out the things that makes them my posse
I have now realized, they aren’t the ones I can have throughout my life
but that’s the dream, friend ships aren’t made to die
they do so much for me, but all they want is popularityÂ
claims the herd is just fine, but she finds more sheep and sacrifices their lives
old friends, I’m jealous
Sometimes I want to apologize for what I have ruined
but then again I realize I did it to myself, so many memories that they had to put on the shelf
new friends, more dramaÂ
more boys, new love
the outsiders say I’m popular, but really it’s just me
I’m the only one I can trust, and everyone else is blind to see
the people who like the same stuff as me are labeled because of what the others see
but really they are just being themselves, and spreading diversity
it makes me mad, the one thing that makes me happy
is ruined because of what the herd has to say, and I have no say in what I do that day
Â
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